POEMS.
73
By Her unheard these painful sighs ascend,
By Her unseen this bitter flood I pour:
Then why with fruitless grief my bosom rend?
Why dwell on blessings, which return no more?
By Her unseen this bitter flood I pour:
Then why with fruitless grief my bosom rend?
Why dwell on blessings, which return no more?
Be calm, my soul! Fond rivers, cease to flow!
Hush the sad bell, remove the sable bier;
I loathe the pomp of ostentatious woe,
And blame the indulgence of one useless tear.
Hush the sad bell, remove the sable bier;
I loathe the pomp of ostentatious woe,
And blame the indulgence of one useless tear.
But come, ye Liberal Arts, and bring your train
Of bright Pursuits, calm Joys, and talents rare!
Come, Poesy, and waft me once again
To happier worlds, unknown to guilt or care.
Of bright Pursuits, calm Joys, and talents rare!
Come, Poesy, and waft me once again
To happier worlds, unknown to guilt or care.
Come, Painting; lift on high thy magic wand,
And pour enchantment on my dazzled sight!
Come, Music; wake the Lyre with raptured hand,
Soothe me to peace, or rouze me to delight!
And pour enchantment on my dazzled sight!
Come, Music; wake the Lyre with raptured hand,
Soothe me to peace, or rouze me to delight!
